TO THE
EVENING STAR.
 
HAIL! beauteous PLANET, whose unrivall’d ray
Smiles all benignant thro’ the early NIGHT,
To me, more grateful than the orb of DAY,
Crown’d with the glories of celestial light.
 
Like those, thy splendors beaming on the eye
Of antient SAGES,* taught them to adore
The awful—sacred symbols, placed on high,
Of MYSTIC POWER, that they could ne’er explore.
 
O whilst that mystic power my heart sustains,
And warms my soul, enraptured with the thought;
The proudest prince in ASIA’s rich domains,
His pomp, his armies, vanish into nought.
 
Such shadowy forms fantastic, seem to glide,
Clad in dim vapour, by the winding stream:
While NATURE mourns at eve her flowery pride,
Lost like the phantoms of a transient dream.
 
The transient dreams of RICHES, RANK, and POWER,
With all the varied JOYS that mortals know,
Droop sadly pensive, like the faded flower,
When adverse FORTUNE clouds her angry brow.
 
Yet, HEAVEN, in mercy to each suffering soul,
Soothes with the balm of PATIENCE every grief,
Bids PASSION yield to REASON’s calm controul,
And each wing’d moment waft some kind relief.
 
For such the fabric of th’ immortal mind,
We cease to weep those ills that long endure;
Long absent blessings faint remembrance find,
And long past pleasures scarce our hearts allure.
 
Ev’n ’mid these rocks and savage haunts, alone,
Reckless of danger, void of every fear,
I claim the hours of rising NIGHT my own,
And chide the moments of their swift career.
 
O lovely STAR! in thy fair form I view
Sweet CONSOLATION, robed in light divine.
My languid pow’rs of life, if HEAVEN renew,
Mild as thy first-born beam, shall PEACE be mine.